Home
by 0000x0000
Summary: Silver learns what 'home' really means. A simple oneshot highlighting major events from 1x03 Lucky Strike and giving them a bit of a backstory. Rated T for language and alcohol abuse.


**DISCLAIMER:** I still don't own any of the 9O21O characters or anything to do with the show. All rights go to the CW. If you recognize it, I don't own it.

**NOTES:** Okay, this is just a simple oneshot from Silver's POV that I was inspired to write at 10:30pm on Nov 14, 2010. So for those of you still waiting for a Chapter Five update on _Devise. Lies. Surprise. _Don't fret. It's on its way. I just had to rid my brain of this story. Basically it's a little rewrite of _1x03 Lucky Strike_. If you're really attentive to detail you'll notice, the events are backwards, but I felt it would "flow" better this way. My way. That said, here's my story and I hope you like it.

* * *

**Home**

"Erin!"

The shrill voice echoes through the halls as I make my way through the seemingly empty house towards it's owner. The simple fact that it's my first name disgusts me but the person yelling it just makes it even more unbearable. When I finally get to the living room, the bottle of scotch on the table tells me what my mother has been doing while I've been at school. Which is the same as every day.

"Erin!" She yells again.

I step closer towards the couch where my mother is sprawled out in what looks to be like one of the most uncomfortable positions in the world. "I'm right here mom." I soothe, placing my hand on her shoulder.

She shoots up into a sitting position and swats my hand away, missing though because of the permanent boozy fog she's grown accustomed to. I remove my hand and take a step back, bracing myself for the verbal lashing I'm about to become victim to.

"Where the hell have you been!" she shouts, glaring up at me with bloodshot eyes.

I'm used to it by now. The yelling and the drinking. But today, it just gets to me. Maybe it was the fact that my sister asked how our mother was today. Maybe today's just my breaking point. I feel the tears stinging the backs of my eyes as my mother prepares for her next outburst. "I called you three times!"

No she didn't.

"You were supposed to be home three hours ago!"

No I wasn't.

She points a perfectly manicure finger at me and scowls. She sees the tears. The hurt. The fear. She can sense it. She thrives off of it. She needs to be in control. "Don't you dare sit there and pout! You don't get to be upset!" She stands shakily and balances herself before moving towards me so that we are face-to-face. I know better than to turn and run.

She screams at me. She blames me. I see her lift her glass and watch as it crashes against the wall, just below my kindergarten school picture, which in turn shatters to the ground. That picture. A cruel irony of the way I feel right now. Shattered.

Finally she stops screaming. She stops moving. Her face contorts and I know what's coming next. In one swift motion I grab the wastebasket from beside the desk and hold it up in front of her, just as the contents of a day of drinking spews from her mouth. I turn my head and look up at the ceiling. I'm used to it by now, but it never gets any less disgusting. She wipes her mouth on the back of her hand and she backs up towards the couch, muttering a few obscenities before laying back on the couch. "I'll be back later mom." I say, although I know she won't remember.

"Where do you think you're going?" She says groggily, each word connected to the last.

"Naomi's." I lie. Naomi and I haven't been friends for two years.

She waves me off and in a couple seconds, she's out cold.

I feel relief.

A horrible feeling I know. I'm relieved my mother is passed out. What kind of a daughter am I? I check to make sure she's still breathing. She is. I drape a blanket over top of her and put the wastebasket by the front door. I grab my purse and car keys, checking one last time on her vitals, then snatch up the wastebasket and walk out the door, slamming it shut. I throw the soiled wastebasket in the trashcans outside, slamming the lid on top. I get in my car and the theme continues. I slam the car door and just sit in the drivers seat. I grip the steering wheel and stare at the house until my knuckles are white. Whoever said 'home is not where you live, but where they understand you' obviously never set foot in this home. It's not even close to being a home. To me it's a roof over my head at best, my mother just a drunken fixture. To my mom, it is a private place to drink and wallow in her sorrows. Two years worth of it. This place is not a home.

The tears fall down my face faster than I can swipe them away. I hate feeling vulnerable. I wipe the rest of my tears on the sleeve of my sweater and take a deep breath, before backing out of my driveway. I drive until it's dark. There's no way I'm going back home. I can't. I won't. I pull into a familiar parking lot, a little over a block away from where I've been staying most nights. I lock my car three times just to be safe. It's a sketchy part of town, but I try to look past that. Everyone down here has a story. Where I'm going, they have lots of stories, but most of them aren't delightful by any means. I open the door to the Angela Kessler Women's Shelter and the inexhaustible chatter of women and their children flood my ears, overpowering the sounds of the passing cars and sirens outdoors. I make my way through the crowded foyer to the office where Janine works.

"Can I please stay again tonight?" I ask, almost begging.

"Sorry, sweetheart we need the extra beds." Janine says firmly yet still sympathetically. I'd told her my story when I'd volunteered here a few summers before and she always said I could stay on quiet nights. Tonight didn't appear to be one of those nights.

"Please." I plead. "You don't know what it's like there."

Of course she does. She sees dozens of women a day who have been beaten by a violent drunk of a spouse, partner, even parent.

"I know hun, but you gotta work it out. I'm sorry."

I grasp the point she's trying to get across. I have a home. My mother's never touched me. She's too drunk to get a decent hit in anyway. I know I have it good compared to some of the other women here. I'm just...scared.

As I walk back to my car I catch a chill and am forced to wrapped my arms around my body to warm up. When I finally reach my car, I crank the heat, but it's September in Beverly Hills and within minutes, I'm hot again.

There's no way I'm going back home. I can't. I won't. So I drive. I drive into the night with a complete state of tunnel vision. I'm exhausted. I miss my bed. But she's there. Probably awake by now. Getting started on her next round of her vomiting. Somehow, in my subconscious I end up in a familiar neighborhood. Not my own. But familiar. I turn down an equally familiar street and I see it. It's my sister's house.

The lights are off. Not like Kelly or Sammy would be awake anyway at two in the morning. Do I knock? Try to wake her up? Before I can debate it, my foot is on the gas, and I'm driving away. She doesn't need this. She spent years before me, trying to help our mother. And she succeeded. For years our mother was clean. Until now. It's my turn. I can handle this.

* * *

I wake up the next morning in my own bed. I only half-remember getting home and I hope to God I didn't kill anyone or do anything illegal in the process. I hear movement downstairs and the familiar clang of glass on glass, and I know she's already drunk. I look at the clock on my dresser 8:00AM. Real classy mom.

"SHIT!" I cry out as I jump from my bed. School starts in a half hour! I quickly pull together a half-decent, 'Silver Approved' if you will, outfit and get dressed. I smooth my hair. No time to do anything fancy and on top of that, I can't find my brush. I put on a small amount of makeup so I don't look completely dead and brush my teeth, before grabbing my bag. I race to school, just in time to hear the last warning bell. I'm late. I hurry to my locker and swiftly run through my combination, the same one since junior high. Then I hear a familiar voice.

"If I don't see you I don't know you're late. If I don't know you're late I don't have to give you a late slip." My sister says playfully as she rounds the corner, shielding her eyes, as if doing so will eliminate my entire presence. Part of me wishes it will

I turn my head just for a second to look at her, and roll my eyes. Great. I fumble with the last number of my lock but manage to get it open, immediately reaching for my black and pink composition notebook and a pen.

Kelly sees it. I know she can. The exhaustion. "You're looking a little run down kiddo. Everything okay?" She asks, her voice growing more and more concerned with every word. I feel her eyes burning a hole in my back.

"Oh yeah. Dark circles are totally in right now didn't you know?" I reply in a lazy sarcastic tone. I continue fishing through my locker to make sure I have everything I need for class.

"No, I didn't know." She says playing along. Bless her. "So is it also cool not to brush your hair?" I feel her swat at my messily tousled hair and turn to face her as I shut my locker. "Then again I guess I'm old." She smiles.

"Yeah. Well, you are getting up there." I grin. "I gotta go." I step around her and head down the hallway, not in as much of a hurry as before. My sister has my back now. It's not long before I meet Mr Matthews in the hallway who is quick to holler a firm "Get to class Silver. You're late." He's trying to scold me, but there's a friendly undercurrent. "Again." He adds. I throw my free hand up in an exasperated shrug and continue walking down the the hall to my first period class.

* * *

I have no idea where I'll be sleeping tonight so I get an early start on my homework. Besides, I don't want to go home. Not after last night. I sit on the back of my Saturn convertible, put my camouflage RayBans over my eyes and get to work on my biology homework. The other kids walking back don't faze me at all, but when I see out of the peripherals of my vision, one of them stop in front of me I look up.

"Go home." Dixon jokes, trying to fan me away with his arms. "What are you still doing here?"

"Jump start on the anatomy of a human respiratory system." I grin, flashing him a glimpse of my paper. "What's your excuse?"

"I was just finishing up some extra-credit work for Algebra. Gotta boost my mark."

I tilt my head in confusion. It seemed like Dixon was doing really well in that class. "What do you have?"

"B+." He says, smiling coyly.

"Ahh.." I bob my head up and down and grin. "I have an A."

"Nerd." He smirks. "So...

I study his face as I think of what might be following. "My parents are making us have a family night tonight." He says using exaggerated air quotes and I can't help but to let out a soft laugh. "Anyway we're going bowling at Lucky Strike, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in showing off your bowling skills?"

"Family night. At a bowling alley where everyone from our school hangs out on semi-regular basis..." I say in a fake pensive tone.

"Yeah, I know it doesn't sound all that glamorous, or even remotely-" I cut him off.

"Sure."

"What?" He says in disbelief.

"I'll see you there." I smile and give him a confirming nod as I pack up my books and hop off my car. At least I have something to fill the majority of my night, before I have to think about going home.

* * *

Annie and Dixon aren't having fun. I can tell. Partially because they aren't bowling. Harry and Debbie have been teaching me how to bowl for the last twenty minutes. I throw a granny shot and knock nine out of ten pins down, turning around to face Debbie as she embraces me in a congratulatory hug. I feel selfish for not wanting it to end. I never realized how much I miss and crave those maternal embraces. When we part Debbie smiles at me.

"Thanks for tagging along Silver." She sounds genuinely appreciative. "I doubt we would've even gotten our kids to leave the house, if you weren't coming." It makes me sad that she's probably not kidding then I realize Annie and Dixon aren't even here. "I'm assuming you guys don't do stuff like this here, huh?"

"Uh. No. Never." I say with a soft laugh that Debbie reciprocates. "But I think what you're doing is great." I say sincerely. "I wish my mom did stuff like this."

"Well you're welcome to join us anytime." She smiles.

* * *

By the end of the night, I'm alone again. I sit in my car outside of the Wilson's house, thinking about the events of the night, and actually smiling as I remember everything we've done. As I turn my ignition on, my hand shakes over the gear. Where am I even going? There's no way I'm going home. I can't. I won't. She started drinking before eight this morning. She'll be in rare form tonight. There's no point in going to the Women's Shelter. It's a little chillier than last night which means more women will be in need of beds. I can't go back into the Wilson's because I just told them my mom was waiting up for me _and _that I'd just got off the phone with her. I sigh as I see the last of the Wilson's lights go off and decide to just sleep there for the night. I set an alarm on my phone to wake myself up at five in the morning. Early enough to make an escape without the risk of anyone seeing me leave, or even outside. I turn off the ignition, and climb into my backseat unfolding a blanket that I keep for situations like this. I've never slept in my car. I've never needed to. Until now.

A light knocking noise and muffled voice causes me to stir, but the knocking becomes louder and the voice clearer. "Silver?" I jerk awake and look out the window where the noises are coming from and see Dixon's face staring back at me. Shit.

I roll my eyes and sit up, running my fingers through my hair as I open the door and climb outside next to him. "What's going on?" He asks. I wrap my blanket tightly around my body and sit on the back end of my car, like earlier and Dixon joins me, sitting close but giving me space. I like that about him. "Silver..." He presses, but not in an irritating way. I take a breath and stare straight ahead, trying my best to stop the formation of tears. Not just because of the delicacy of the subject we're about to discuss, but the tears of embarrassment, humiliation and all around exhaustion.

"My mom...she drinks."

* * *

They all know. The Wilsons. Dixon convinced me to stay the night at their house. They're going to call Kelly. I know they are. I wish they won't. I can handle this.

As I pull up to my house I notice a familiar car in the driveway. Shit! Kelly's here. She'd told me to stay put with Annie at the Wilson's but I didn't think she'd actually come here. I think about leaving, but I need to get Kelly to stay out of this. I walk inside and they're already fighting. I assume she's been here for a while now.

"Kelly?" I give her a once over then make my way towards our mother. "Mom." I once again play my hand on her shoulder, but she swats it away. She's not as drunk as the other night, because this time, she actually manages to hit my hand.

"Where the hell have you been staying!" She shouts. "Do you see all the trouble you've caused?"

Great. Now _I'm _in trouble. Not like its any surprise. It's always my fault around here. I turn to face my sister. "Kelly, I can handle this!"

"No you can't and neither could I!" She says firmly then turns to face our mother. "I am not going to stand by and watch you do to her what you did to me."

"Oh yeah, because your childhood was _so_ awful." My mother sneers.

"You-"

I can't stand this. "Stop!" I interject.

"Your sister was just leaving Erin!" I hate the way she says my name.

"Yes," Kelly says. "And I'm taking her with me." She grabs my arm and guides me towards the door. I don't resist, but I don't consent either.

"You have a four-year old with no one to help you and now you want to add a teenager on top of it? Let me tell you she's no walk in the park." Ouch. It may be true, but it cut me deep.

"She's coming to live with me." Kelly glares. "Let's go." She guides me further and further away, but my mother is quick to retaliate and she grips onto my free arm.

"You lied to me and now you're going to leave?"

"Mom!" Kelly shouts.

I feel both of them tugging equally as hard on my arm, and I yank my arms away. "Stop it!" I cry. "Both of you!" I turn to face my mother in exasperation and shake my head. "Mom, I can't take this anymore. I can't watch you-"

"Oh get out!" She screams. I take a step back, and tears instantly prick the backs of my eyes as they widen in shock. "I am tired of both of you!" She gives my sister and I one last glare before turning away from us.

I'm floored. I can't move. My mouth is gaped open in shock. I feel like I can't breathe. My own mother just kicked me out. I grab my bag off the arm chair, and blink back tears as I make my way towards the front door.

* * *

The next morning I wake up but I don't hear any kind of drunken noise. Nothing but the birds outside and the innocent muffled chatter of my nephew Sammy as he talks my sister's ear off in the kitchen. I'd forgotten where I was for a moment. After our mother had passed out I'd gone back to get some of my clothes and some other important belongings. My eyes flutter open and I squint in the sunlight being cast across Kelly's bed. It reminded me of my childhood. When I would sleepover at Kelly's and I would sleep in her bed, because she didn't want me sleeping in a room by myself. I roll over and check the alarm clock on her side of the bed. 8:00am. Thank God, it's Saturday. I wonder if mom's started drinking yet.

"Morning." My sister's soft, caring voice comes from the doorway and I sit up slightly to see her.

"Morning." I echo, rubbing my eyes and letting out a quick yawn.

She makes her way to my side of the bed and sits down on the edge and I sit up, hugging my knees. "Did you sleep well?"

"Actually, I did.." I say. "Really well." In fact it was the best nights sleep I'd gotten in weeks, months even. "Thank you.." I say quietly.

"You don't have to thank me."

"No I do." I say with a quick nod. "I really do appreciate this.."

Kelly places a hand on my knee and smiles. "You know I'd do anything for you right?"

I nod. She's not just saying this. She scoots closer towards me and holds her arms out to me, inviting me into her arms. I smile softly, and move next to her and she embraces me, in a way only a sister can. But there's a maternal undercurrent to it as well. That feeling I craved for so long. It was always just across town. I feel safe. Nurtured. Loved. All from a hug that we've shared a million times before.

Today's is different.

Today I found my home.

* * *

**A/N: **Chapter 5 of _Devise. Lies. Surprise _**will **be up on or before November 30th!  
This was just a oneshot I _had _to get out of my head before I could continue with anything else. Thanks for sticking with me and thanks for all of your kind reviews!


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